He Who Laughs Last
by The Lesbian Gavinners
Summary: The Misham Trial is over. Kristoph is dead, executed. In the aftermath of it all, Apollo's starting to realize that him and Klavier are less different then he would have thought. Now that they've been left to pick up the pieces, Apollo finds himself whisked away in Klavier's search for answers- a search that may prove more difficult than either of them originally thought. Klapollo
1. Chapter 1

**so first chapter! set right after the Misham Trial, let's do this thing! ty to truitt for beta-ing! (ur still gay)**

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Klavier hasn't moved since the verdict was announced.

It's like the words froze him. It's like they're ice, coating every inch of his skin. Apollo's nearly certain that Klavier hasn't blinked or breathed since, that he's just _stood_ there, staring.

Kristoph has been led away, the spectators have filed out. There's not a single person left in here but Klavier and Apollo, both still standing at their desks. They've turned to face the witness stand, staring in unblinking quiet. The external noise from the lobby has died down to all but a muffle.

The courtroom has been empty for awhile, but Klavier hasn't reacted to anything since the word _guilty_. His eyes are locked on the vacant witness stand like his life depends on it, like the world will disappear if he blinks.

It's like he's trying to convince himself that it's all real.

Apollo doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to say, what will get Klavier to snap out of it and get back to the normalcy that Apollo so desperately needs.

Apollo's been standing here for as long as Klavier has. After the trial ended, he waved a hand and told Trucy to go on out without him, to check on Vera Misham while he ties up a few loose ends.

Only now, Apollo's realizing that he doesn't know how.

The courtroom feels strangely quiet with just him and Klavier in it. It's creepy, in a sense, like being at school after hours when no one else is there. The judge's chair is bare, the witness stand unoccupied, the defendant's place cleared. It's like the trial never even happened, like no one was ever there.

It's quiet, though, not silent, because there's that _sound_ that's impossible to get out of Apollo's head. There's the _sound_ of Kristoph laughing, delirious and shrill, echoing on and on. It's ringing in Apollo's ears like a catchy song, pressed into the forefront of his mind and never leaving. Apollo can't block it, can't remember what life was even like without it _there_ all the time.

The only thing Apollo can hope is that one day he'll be able to forget that sound, pure hopelessness and destruction in a single unending laugh. It goes on forever, and Apollo can't beat it. He knows he'll never be able to erase that sound of pure mania. He's stuck with the image of Kristoph shaking, knowing that he's defeated. There's the way Kristoph's hair frizzed and tangled, the way he clutched his head as though he expected to fall apart- it's all too _much,_ too much to forget.

Apollo wrenches his eyes away from the witness stand, and the image of Kristoph vanishes. He swallows, stealing a glance over at Klavier.

"You hear it too?" Apollo's voice is loud in the silent space, almost like he's intruded on something. It's scratchy and worn, a bit choked.

Nothing on Klavier moves, save for his lips. "Ja."

The room lapses back into silence again. The echo is still there, like it's on a loop. Laughing, laughing, laughing…

Apollo thinks he gets why Klavier is staring, now. Klavier's trying to make sure that Kristoph really left, that he's really and truly gone. It still doesn't feel quite real to Apollo, either. His blood is still pumping, heart racing as he tries to _think,_ trying to catch Kristoph, somehow, forgetting that he's already won.

Apollo doesn't think this will ever be really over.

Now it's hard to rest, hard for Apollo to congratulate himself. Yeah, he's caught Kristoph, but this is time two. Who knows how many plots he had in motion, how many people he killed? He left a stamp and a bottle of nail polish as time bombs, how many more does he have? Will Apollo collapse some day, dead from Atroquinine poisoning?

Will _Klavier?_

Apollo shivers. He hopes not, hopes to hell and back. He makes a mental note to throw out everything Kristoph has ever given him, edible or not. He can't take the risk; he doesn't want to die by _Kristoph's_ hand after all this.

"…Apollo?"

Apollo nearly jumps at the sudden sound. That's… Klavier's talking to him. W- Apollo didn't think he'd talk this soon, not willingly. Is he ok?

"Yeah?" Apollo asks, and immediately winces at the sound. Their voices both sound terrible. The energy behind them is gone, left with a listless, broken rasp.

Klavier closes his eyes, bowing his head. His lips are tightly pressed, like he's trying to keep the question from coming out. "Why am I alive?"

Apollo can't keep his eyes from widening. He manages to keep his jaw steady, but his next inhale is sharp. _H-he's not thinking…? He couldn't have possibly meant-_

Apollo swallows, trying to navigate the question. "What do you mean?"

Klavier's expression darkens, his jaw clenches. "I was the perfect target. It would have only been too easy for him."

Apollo stares down at the courtroom floor. Much as he hates the question, hates the thought of Klavier _dead,_ Klavier… isn't _wrong._ He certainly would have been the easiest target, especially considering how much he trusted Kristoph.

It's actually kind of weird, how submissive Klavier is around Kristoph. Apollo can still remember the way Klavier's face twisted at Apollo's accusation, the way he began to sweat at the very _thought_ that Kristoph wasn't who he said he was. Klavier simply _couldn't_ believe it, it caused him physical pain just to _try_ and believe it.

 _The darkness…_ Apollo can still hear the desperation in Klavier's voice, the need for _help,_ to be _saved._ He was begging Apollo, risking any repercussions from Kristoph to ask for help.

It suddenly strikes Apollo that he was looking at the _real_ Klavier for the first time back then. Apollo was seeing the carefully guarded man that believed too strongly in the truth to be beaten into submission, the man who is probably the best man Apollo had ever known. He was seeing the untapped, pure _Klavier Gavin,_ part rockstar and part prosecutor and all passion.

Apollo glances back at the witness stand, checking. Still empty.

Now it's all over, but…

"Would you rather that he did?" It's a horrible thing to ask, Apollo knows it, but he can't help it. He focuses his gaze back on the floor, the way the lights reflect on the shiny tile.

Apollo feels numb all of a sudden, like his mouth asked the question of its own accord. Please say no, Klavier. Please.

Klavier doesn't answer the question. "I just want a _reason,_ Apollo. Two men dead, one disbarred, one girl nearly dead, and I…"

He lets his voice trail off, lets it go after it cracks beyond recognition.

"I don't know." Apollo says simply, not looking up from the floor. He doesn't know what else to say, doesn't know _why_ any of this happened when it so obviously shouldn't have.

" _Gott,_ I don't _understand,_ " Klavier spits. He cringes then, wincing. "I-it hurts, Apollo. You feel it too, ja?"

Apollo nods. He knows what Klavier is talking about. His stomach hasn't stopped churning since Kristoph took the stand, since those _eyes_ were on him again. They're like lasers, cutting through his skin like Apollo is nothing, less than nothing.

Apollo can't help but shrink under that glare.

It's silent again, and the laughing sound is back. Apollo gives an involuntary shudder, closing his eyes. He can remember the wild look in Kristoph's eyes as he laughed, the broken intensity of a thousand suns.

Klavier looks up, eyes fixated on the witness stand again. "Do you… hate him?"

Apollo's breath catches. Does he?

That's a hell of a loaded question.

"Will you think any less of me if I say that I don't know?" Apollo nearly mumbles, not looking up from the floor.

"Nein." Klavier's shoulders drop as he shifts stances, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know either. But… shouldn't it be obvious?"

Apollo closes his eyes. Kristoph Gavin. He's so many things. Murderer, abuser, stalker, poisoner, forger… but also brother, mentor, lawyer and visionary. The lines are blurred beyond comprehension, there's no way to separate one Kristoph from the other. It's all one man, one laughing man that Apollo can't get out of his head.

Apollo glances over at Klavier, trying to steady himself enough to speak again. He swallows. "Sometimes the hardest questions are the simplest ones."

Klavier nods, bobbing his chin a little, but not looking down. It's like he's avoiding eye contact with Apollo, trying not to face him. It's easy, with this much space in between their desks. "Ja. I can't figure out why I was spared."

"The only reason I can come up with…" Klavier pauses, letting his voice drop to a near whisper. "…is that I'm his brother."

Apollo winces. He doesn't want to take away what little hope Klavier has; he's already taken so much in these few trials they've had together. Apollo _knows_ that Klavier is alone now, that everyone who might have loved him is more than gone.

Apollo thinks Klavier's figured it out, though. With anyone else, that conclusion might make sense, but with Kristoph…

Klavier laughs coldly, and it rings in time with the echo of Kristoph's. "He's right, isn't he? I am naïve and useless. I want so badly to believe that he loved me as much as I loved him, that some part of this is a mistake. I'm so _stupid_ , Apollo.

"You're not stupid." Apollo says instantly. "You've been used."

"I don't feel _angry,_ Apollo." Klavier says matter-of-factly, like he's reading from a textbook. "Just… _empty_."

Apollo swallows. He knows exactly what Klavier is talking about.

It took forever for Apollo to actually feel angry about Kristoph, about being lied to and manipulated and _almost_ letting Kristoph get away with it all. Right after the first trial he just felt kind of… numb. It took awhile for it all to sink in, that he wasn't going to work tomorrow and that he'd probably never see Kristoph again. It took even longer to accept that Kristoph, smiling, serene, calm _Kristoph_ had bludgeoned a man to death. That Kristoph was responsible for killing a man, that Kristoph was a murderer.

The realization was horrifying. Suddenly everyone had the capacity to be a murderer- because surely, if Kristoph could kill someone, anyone could. Nothing was safe anymore, and Apollo was completely _alone_ for those two months _._

It got better, though. Now there's Trucy with him, cheerful and supportive, and Mr. Wright, who's truly on Apollo's side, even if he is aloof and hard to read. Now there's _Klavier,_ bright, shining, flirtatious Klavier, gorgeous and leaning in with a smile.

 _Klavier,_ who for all of his bravery is depending on Apollo now, begging him to _please_ drive this darkness away.

Apollo looks up at the empty witness stand again. There's no one standing there. Kristoph is gone. Klavier and Apollo can do it, now. They can rebuild things. Together.

Apollo focuses on Klavier- the way his chin is tilted towards the ceiling, hiding his face, how his arms and shoulders drop as though he doesn't have the will to hold himself up. He looks just as alone as Apollo did in those two months, friends and family turned to murderers and surroundings turned to hell.

Apollo grits his teeth, willing his feet to move. He needs to walk over to Klavier; he can't talk to Klavier like this. The courtroom is too big to stand on opposite ends, too big for this space between them. They have to work together to get past _this_ , to get past _Kristoph._

No one should have to grapple with this alone.

Klavier barely notices Apollo walking towards him, judging by how he's unmoving again. It's like he's really turned to plastic, frozen in place for all eternity.

Apollo's footsteps seem deafeningly loud in the quiet room, but Apollo doesn't think he's ever been more grateful for a sound this loud. They're the only thing to listen to besides for Kristoph's laugh, little clicks whenever Kristoph stops to gasp for breath.

"Klavier?" Apollo's made it behind Klavier's desk, standing directly opposite him. He's standing right in front of Klavier, completely blocking Klavier's view of the witness stand.

"I…" Apollo swallows. He needs to be strategic about this. "I may not know if… if Kristoph loves you, and I certainly don't know him as well as you do, but…"

Apollo looks up, meeting Klavier's eyes. Klavier makes like he's going to look away, but Apollo stares him down. Neither of them can ignore this now. "Kristoph doesn't _make_ mistakes- and if he does, he fixes them the first chance he gets."

Klavier's face screws up in confusion, so Apollo goes on. "What I'm saying is that if you're still alive, it's intentional."

Klavier's eyes widen like the thought is new to him, despite what he wants to believe. His expression instantly softens, and he truly meets Apollo's eyes. "J-ja."

"And for what it's worth," Apollo continues, pressing on with a little smile. "I'm glad that you're alive."

With that he reaches for Klavier's hand, hanging limp by his side. Klavier doesn't flinch or move away when Apollo's hand closes around his, just looks down and stares at the sight.

It takes a second for him to wrap his fingers around Apollo's hand, and Apollo exhales when he does. The touch feels really nice for some reason he can't explain; it makes something warm in his stomach jump. Sure, it's a bit awkward, Apollo doesn't know how close he can get and how much he can touch, but Klavier is taking his hand.

Klavier's hand is warm and a bit sweaty, but he's hanging onto Apollo's hand with a gentle passion. He looks exhausted, but he's still holding on.

Apollo smiles, trying to catch Klavier's eyes again. "Come on. Let's go."

Klavier nods without a word, letting Apollo pull him towards the courtroom door. They exit the courtroom together, hand in hand, leaving the sound of laughter behind.

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 **thanks for reading! chapter 2 should be up soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've been awake for too long I can hear colors**

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The next time Apollo sees Klavier is much later.

Apollo isn't quite sure why he's here, anyways. Everything within him is screaming, begging himself to just _leave already_. This shouldn't be necessary. Apollo should be at home, laughing, crossing another enemy off the list with a champagne glass in hand- not that Apollo can afford champagne, but uh, the point is clear.

Apollo just doesn't know why he feels so goddamned _empty_ now. He can't shake the feeling of finality, knowing that everything's changed for good. This should be a moment of victory, and yet, Apollo can't shake the feeling that he's lost something- something that he'll never get back.

Apollo supposes that's it. After all, it's has to be his _humanity_ that's keeping him here. He's only here for that weird twinge in his chest that still doesn't believe that Kristoph is dead, the crushing thought that it's all over now. Apollo may have just seen the man's corpse lowered into the ground in a coffin, but that's not enough for his stupid brain. There's a part of him that expects for Kristoph to still be there, a part of him that thinks that Kristoph will be looming over Apollo the second he turns around.

Apollo scowls. Well, Kristoph's not exactly _gone._ There's always the laugh.

And _there_ it is, right on cue. Those breathless gasps of mirth haven't left Apollo's head since the trial, not once. Apollo would pay anything to get the horrible sound _out,_ would give up anything to have his head clear and quiet again.

Kristoph just doesn't feel dead when he's still _there._

That isn't the point, though. Apollo isn't at this funeral for Kristoph's sake. Not totally, anyways.

Apollo's mostly here because he knows who's hosting the funeral, who's bound to show up- who he's about to see for the first time in god damned _weeks,_ mind you.

The past month was the longest in Apollo's life. He can't remember another month that crawled on like that with an endless sense of anticipation, leaving him _waiting_ for something to change. All he can remember from it is the _waiting,_ checking, watching day after day, because he knew that the very _thought_ that Klavier Gavin could disappear was ridiculous. But no, he _was_ gone- like he'd never been there at all.

Well, not exactly like he'd never been there at all. The man might have been gone, but the proof was still all there- his office, the court records, the music. It wasn't the same without him, though. It all turned depressingly vacant and dark in his absence. Take his office, for example: it was always silent and cold each time Apollo visited, complete with a thick layer of dust gathering on the guitars and desk.

Then there was the neverending dial tone Apollo got when he called Klavier's phone, the little chirp of " _achtung!"_ that begun Klavier's prerecorded message. Apollo always had to shut his phone off after that. The sound of Klavier's voice always made something in his chest hurt, something that felt oddly like the sensation in his hand when he first took Klavier's- a faint warm buzzing, something familiar but just out of Apollo's grasp.

Coming to the funeral was all worth it to see Klavier again, though, even if he was too changed for Apollo's liking.

Klavier stood in the front during the service, just before the coffin with a hand over his mouth. He looked almost spectral, bundled in a long black coat that rustled in the wind.

The sight was striking. Apollo had never seen Klavier in anything other than the usual, the almost blindingly bright pink jacket ( _"_ it's _fuchsia,_ Herr Forehead!") and gaudy jewelry. Seeing him dressed plainly like this, almost looking drab- it was odd, to say the least, and it only piled on top of Apollo's worries.

Apollo couldn't help but notice the haircut. It was hard not to, with the way it fluttered in the wind. Apollo couldn't say that he hadn't guessed this would happen, but it was still a bit of a shock to see Klavier without his signature drill hairstyle.

Klavier looked downright haunting during the service. His face remained blank through the whole thing, with not a single tear or quiver. He just _stood_ there, unmoving in the biting wind and clash of emotions. The stillness was odd to see on someone like Klavier, a man whose smile usually seemed like enough to power the whole world. He looked small without the glimmer of happiness, lost without that spark in his eyes.

Seeing him like that… it was enough to quell Apollo's anger.

Oh yes, Apollo had arrived fuming with fists balled, trembling under his own short jacket. _You left us, just like that,_ Apollo wanted to say. _I worried that you were dead. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, and I want to, more badly than I can say._

Klavier had met Apollo's eyes halfway through the service, though, and it was all gone in a flash. Apollo couldn't say it. He couldn't take anything from Klavier, not anymore. He couldn't hurt Klavier. The _thought_ made him tremble, unsteady with rage.

The service is over now, though. The meager company is gone, and it's completely quiet, except for how the wind is howling. It bats Apollo's ears and hair, but Apollo can't bring himself to care. He's fixated on one thing and one thing only now.

Klavier's form is hunched just in front of Apollo, compact and small, and it hits Apollo that the situation is nearly ironic.

The last time they were alone like this was just after the Misham Trial.

Now that Apollo thinks about it, this certainly does feel the same. He's standing with Klavier, staring at an achingly blank place far after everyone else has left, trying to forget what Kristoph's done. Trying to forget the blinding pain, how badly they're both hurting.

Kristoph's laugh hasn't changed in all this time, nor is it lost in the wind. The feeling of emptiness is still the same, all too familiar.

If the situation is all too familiar, Apollo thinks to himself with a grimace, then Klavier has changed too much. His silhouette is all different now, hair short and coat wrapped tight around his torso. He looks tiny when he's knelt down now, bent over the headstone and crouched down on the freshly moved dirt. There's a silent sob as his shoulders shake, hot tears falling on the hand still cupped over his mouth.

He probably thinks that he's alone- that or he's too gone to care.

Apollo hasn't let Klavier known that he's there. He's just been standing, watching. Apollo can't do much more than swallow nothing in his incredibly dry mouth, shivering under the relentless wind- wind that's only picking up the longer they stand out here.

Apollo inhales. Right. He needs to do something; he can't leave Klavier alone. It's Apollo's responsibility to take care of Klavier, to replace everything that he's taken from the man.

Apollo takes a step forwards, and the grass crunches lightly under his foot. It's not loud enough to hear, especially through the howling wind, and Klavier doesn't react.

Now that Apollo's closer, he can see the scene before him more clearly. Klavier's staring forwards at the headstone, blue eyes locked onto it. He appears to be reading the name etched there over and over, in an endless loop. _Kristoph Gavin. Kristoph Gavin. Kristoph Gavin._

Apollo steals a glance at the grave. The name is drawn at the top, so small that you probably couldn't read it from more than a meter away. The font is astonishingly simple, and the message is just that- the name.

Apollo represses a snicker. Kristoph would hate it. He'd hate the gracelessness of it, the sheer simplicity and lack of gravitas. For all of his scoffing, he was more alike his brother than he had ever realized.

Not that Apollo would ever tell either of them. Not now.

Apollo turns, looking back to Klavier. His hand is still blocking most of his face, holding it, but his eyes are closed now. Apollo has to stop his hand from reaching forwards, from wiping the tears off of Klavier's cheeks.

Apollo swallows, glancing down at his hand. Well, he has to do _something_.

Might as well do what worked last time.

Apollo extends his hand, not saying a word. He leaves it in front of Klavier's face, holding it out like an invitation.

 _Trust me._

Klavier opens his eyes, shiny with tears and bright as stars. He stares at Apollo's hand, unblinking, his own hand trembling.

 _Please._

Quick as a flash, Klavier takes Apollo's hand, holding tight. He doesn't look up to the owner, doesn't even think. Klavier's hand just leaves his face to clutch Apollo's hand with all of his might, like he's scared it'll slip away.

Klavier's hand is wet with tears, but still as warm and soft as it was last time. Apollo runs his thumb over it to find the back raw with cold. Probably from the wind.

Come to think of it, Klavier's probably cold all over, standing alone for that long.

Apollo tugs upwards with a small grunt, hoisting Klavier up. Klavier doesn't fight him, but he doesn't look up either. He just allows himself to be lifted, lets Apollo wrap two arms around him and clutch Klavier to his chest. Klavier tucks his head into the crook between Apollo's neck and shoulder, lying it there.

"My brother is dead, Apollo." Klavier says quietly, breath hot on Apollo's neck.

It's the first time Apollo's been able to appreciate Klavier saying his name, and Apollo's heart skips a beat at the sound. His own name sounds almost _exotic_ in that voice, with Klavier's familiar accent gliding over the syllables.

"I know." Is all Apollo can say, all he can think. He knows. Kristoph is dead, even if it doesn't feel like it.

"I'm still alive." Klavier mumbles, closing his eyes. "Now three men are dead, and I'm the one who's alive."

It takes a second for Apollo to place the thought, because it sounds familiar.

Oh. Apollo can nearly hear Klavier's voice again, the way it was broken and hoarse in the aftermath of the Misham Trial.

 _Why am I alive?_

"I'm alive too." Apollo says quietly. He hopes it's comforting, hopes the thought makes Klavier feel less alone.

Klavier laughs, shaking in Apollo's arms. "J-ja. You're alive. No one could kill you, Apollo."

"He could have." Apollo says numbly, and suddenly he's realized that Klavier's odd ramble back after the Misham Trial may not have been that far-fetched, after all- especially when applied to Apollo himself. After all, Apollo would have been easy to kill, so much so that it would have been _dull_ for Kristoph. What cosmic slip-up left him alive after all that?

 _Don't answer that._ Apollo shakes his head, cringing. He can't afford to think like that, especially not now. Klavier needs him, now isn't the time to bog himself down with stupid what ifs.

"Are you okay?" Apollo asks, and he regrets asking the second the words leave his mouth. Stupid question. Of course not.

Klavier lets his breath out in a puff that warms Apollo's neck. "I will be. I have to be, nein?"

Apollo resists the urge to comb his fingers through that hair, that wavy sea of shining blonde. "What are you being until then?"

Klavier laughs aloud at that. "Drunk."

Well, Apollo can't fathom a response to that. What do you even say to that?

"I'm going home, Apollo," Klavier says, and the sentence is whisper-like, soft. Apollo would probably think that Klavier was talking to himself if he didn't outright address Apollo.

Klavier straightens, rubbing his eyes with his hand. It's suddenly cold without him there, clinging onto Apollo like they're the last men on Earth.

Apollo takes the opportunity to stare at Klavier, scanning down from the mussed hair to the black coat that's hanging off of his thin frame. The world feels barer when Apollo isn't touching him, the colors duller and the sounds softer. It's like Klavier is an amplifier, a conductor for everything good in the world. Apollo doesn't want to be anywhere but where Klavier is.

"I'm coming, too." Apollo says suddenly. It isn't like he's got anything better to do. You know what? Getting drunk with Klavier Gavin sounds good, all of a sudden. Very good.

Klavier looks a bit confused- oh. Apollo just invited himself over.

Apollo leans back, rubbing the back of his neck. Shit, this is embarrassing. "I mean- if that's alright with you."

Klavier still looks uncertain, so Apollo drops the arm, looking him in the eyes and dropping his voice. "Look... I just want to make sure that you're ok, Klavier. After everything that's happened... I'm kind of worried."

Klavier shrugs, playing with his bangs. "Ja, ja. The more the merrier, nein?"

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 **ok, quick psa. truitt (my beta and best friend) made two anonymous reviews the other day, so if you see anything weird, it's him. Sorry about that.**

 **(by the way, thank you, mad anon. you're very sweet.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**why do I keep on cutting klavier's hair tbh**

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"After you."

There's a muted jingle as Klavier tucks his keys back into his coat pocket. The front door to his apartment is stopped enough for the two of them to enter now, held open with a booted foot. It's lighter in the hallway with the door open, and the two of them are hit with a soft glow.

If he's being totally honest, Apollo isn't really sure what he's expecting to see in here. He knows that Klavier's apartment will be luxurious, that's a given, but Apollo doesn't know much about luxury. He doesn't know what to imagine seeing. Apollo never thought that he'd ever be taken to the penthouse of one of the trendiest buildings downtown, that's for sure.

Well, here goes nothing.

Apollo steps inside, looking around, and- _wow._

All Apollo can think is _damn_. Somehow, it's better than Apollo was expecting.

The first thing that hits him is how _high_ they are in here, faced with the sight of the skyline at all angles. There aren't walls in the apartment as much as there are windows, floor to ceiling and filled to the brim with the view of the sprawling city below them. Apollo's almost scared that he's going to fall out of the room.

Apollo glances around, and it only gets better from there. The furniture is modern style, compact and glass. Apollo can only describe it all as _smooth_ , from the color design to the materials used.

They're standing in a living room now, judging by the plushy couches gathered around a coffee table. There's a kitchenette to the left and a breakfast room just ahead, overlooking the ridiculous view. Just outside, there's a balcony, and- fuck, is that a _pool?_ And a firepit?

"I've gotta come here more often," Apollo mutters to himself, and Klavier's laugh rings out behind him.

"It's home, ja?" Klavier asks too casually, closing the door behind himself.

Make no mistake, Klavier's penthouse apartment is a thing of luxury, and if Apollo wasn't jealous of the guy before, he _sure_ is now. Apollo's almost scared to touch anything; it all looks imposingly expensive and fragile.

Characteristically, Klavier has no such qualms, tossing his jacket onto a cream armchair without a care in the world. "You can sit down."

Alright then. Apollo scans the room again. The living room consists of a couple of sofas around a darker colored coffee table, one that has a white flower vase on top of it. The closest seat to the door is a couch just to the right of the coffee table, so Apollo sits there.

"So. Drinks." Klavier breathes to himself, making a beeline for the kitchenette. He only makes it halfway across the room before blinking in surprise.

"Schieße. I can't drink." Klavier sounds shocked, like the thought just hit him.

"Huh?" Apollo mumbles. Now he's confused. Wasn't getting drinks _Klavier's_ idea?

"Ach…" Klavier winces, raising a hand to play with his bangs. It almost resembles a habit, the way he's brushing it back. No, it's more like a nervous tic, and that's enough to make Apollo a bit suspicious.

Thinking of Klavier as a scatterbrain… it's _weird._ He's usually perfectly composed and prepared, to the point where it's almost inhuman. What could unsettle him, especially _now,_ after all that he's gone through today? What did he just remember?

"Would you mind having water?" Klavier asks, and the question sounds horribly quivery and unsteady.

Apollo nods without a second thought. Yeah, he'll go along. Klavier's obviously feeling bad- it's probably for the better that he can't drink, actually, alcohol would probably make things worse.

"Gut. Sorry about that." Klavier's voice is still a bit quiet as he pokes around in the kitchenette, probably looking for cups. Apart from a few clanks from Klavier, it's silent now, and Apollo has to bite back a sigh. There goes any hope for a volunteered explanation.

Apollo presses a finger to his forehead, thinking. Come to think of it… Why can't Klavier drink now, anyways? The only reasons Apollo can think of are medical- and fuck, he hopes not.

Of course, physically speaking, Klavier looks fine, just the same as he always has. Sure, he's a bit thinner, and he looks tired and his hair is cut, but all of that probably has to do with the stress lately.

Although, thinking that only worries Apollo more. It's easy to fix things on the outside. The inside? Not so much.

Apollo scrunches his eyes shut. Please let Klavier be okay. He isn't sure who he's asking- _begging,_ but he needs it. He needs for Klavier to survive this.

There are a few heavy footsteps, and Apollo opens his eyes again. The first thing he sees is Klavier himself, returning to the living room with two glasses in hand. They're filled with water, as promised, sloshing around as Klavier makes his way over.

"Cheers." Klavier hands a glass to Apollo, slumping into the armchair adjacent. He takes a gulp of water, somehow leaning farther back into the chair.

Apollo follows suit with a half-hearted toast, taking a sip of his own drink. It's pretty refreshing, actually. Apollo hadn't realized that he was thirsty until now- and he really was, come to think of it. His mouth must have gotten really dry after being in that wind for all that time.

Apollo swallows, and he can't help but feel strangely unsettled for a moment before the realization hits him.

It's gotten awfully quiet in here.

Apollo risks a glance over at Klavier.

It turns out to be easy. Klavier probably didn't even notice. He hasn't moved a muscle since he sat down, just staring down at the ground. His eyes have gone wide, focused directly forwards like he's watching something intently.

Despite his eyes, his face is completely blank, almost like he's forgotten that Apollo's there at all. There's something vacant about him, an emptiness setting in all around the room.

Apollo opens his mouth to say something, but he's immediately interrupted.

"Do you know what fear looks like, Apollo?" Klavier asks suddenly. His voice isn't much louder than a whisper.

A million different things go through Apollo's mind- spiders, snakes, dark shadows and skeletons and ghosts like it's Halloween in his head. It's all clichéd stuff, embarrassingly so, all except for one thing: the pair of rimless glasses, glinted to hide anything beyond, with the sound of laughter echoing in the background.

 _No._

Apollo shakes his head slowly, feeling a bit numb, but it's like Klavier didn't even see him. Apollo realizes that Klavier wasn't looking for an answer, that he would have continued whether Apollo reacted or not.

"I've seen it, Apollo, and you have too." Klavier's free hand is over his face now, scraggly fingers bent and stretching for purchase. "Tell me you remember it. Tell me you saw him twitch and shake, that you _felt_ it in your very bones just by _watching_."

Apollo doesn't answer. The laughter is only getting louder; now he can hear it in every recess of his mind.

Klavier clenches a fist around his glass, shaking. "It's haunting me, Apollo. Every time I close my eyes…"

He can't even finish the sentence, cut off by a sob. His hand is clutching at his face with vigor now, grabbing like he can't bear to open his eyes.

The sight makes Apollo's heart leap into his throat. "Maybe you shouldn't be thinking about-"

Klavier cuts him off. "I…"

Klavier's throat bobs as he swallows, as his hand falls from his face and his eyes close. "I was there at the execution."

That shuts Apollo up.

His brain is made of white noise now, pure pity and horror. Apollo- he can't even _imagine-_

"He was just as _Kristoph_ as usual, right to the bitter end." Klavier drums his hand on the armchair, fingers still twitching restlessly. It's a repetitive motion, like he's trying to keep himself from thinking about what he's saying. "Silent, expressionless, emotionless. He wasn't going to play along, act terrified and desperate. Nein, Kristoph is _too good_ for that. He's going to be still the whole way through, just you watch him."

Klavier's tone is getting more and more bitter the farther he goes. "No last words. He had nothing to say to me. Absolutely _nothing._ No explanation, no will, no _apology._ Not even a goodbye."

Bastard. Apollo purses his lips, scowling. Of all the petty things to do…

Klavier's fingers still, and the rhythm he was tapping ends. He stares into his glass, unblinking. "Of course, it was all useless, in the end. He died anyways. Nothing was going to change that."

The room feels much quieter without the tapping, and the silence makes Apollo realize that he hasn't said anything in awhile.

Apollo just wishes he had anything to _say._ "Yeah…"

"You know, Apollo?" Klavier asks, looking up. He's staring at Apollo with the same intensity as before, as though Apollo's comment has reminded him that Apollo is there.

Apollo shakes his head, and Klavier's eyes drop from Apollo's. "Kristoph… he isn't- _wasn't-_ as good an actor as he liked to think. I could see through his act, especially near the end. It was-"

Klavier's eyes don't climb from the floor, and he shudders visibly. "He was pretending because he _was_ terrified, Apollo. Or maybe he wasn't pretending. Maybe he was literally _petrified,_ to scared to act _._ But I saw it. I saw his eyes widen, the way he trembled when he was taken off guard. Kristoph was _afraid._ "

Apollo looks down at the floor with Klavier, swallowing nothing in his dry mouth.

The very idea of Kristoph being _afraid_ is hard to imagine, and yet… the way Klavier describes it, Apollo can almost see it. Klavier's words are painting strokes in Apollo's mind's eye- Kristoph frozen, unmoving except for little shivers that ripple across his whole body, glasses casting the lightest of shadows against a pale face. Apollo can see Kristoph _alone_ , defeated, all semblances of control lost and everything taken from him.

Klavier closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the couch cushion. "I never wanted to see him like _this-_ questioning whether he was going to live or die, wondering with each second if it would be the last. He looked _powerless_ , Apollo, and that-"

Klavier's chest shakes, and Apollo isn't sure if the strangled sound he makes is a laugh or a sob. "That _should_ comfort me, nein?"

Fuck.

Apollo can't do much more than gape at Klavier, racking his mind for an answer. He- he doesn't _know,_ he was left just as clueless as Klavier. Apollo can't even begin to fathom everything that happened in the last year, he doesn't understand either. He doesn't have an answer.

Klavier's still leaning back, he's gone all but limp in the cream colored armchair. The sight almost makes Apollo feel more helpless, more confused and more answerless.

Since the Misham Trial, Klavier hasn't been doing anything but asking hard questions; questions he _knows_ are impossible to answer. _Why is he alive? What should he feel?_

 _Why?_ Why did any of this happen, why did Kristoph kill people, why are him and Apollo left alive?

Apollo grits his teeth. Klavier is trying to do the impossible, just as usual. He's searching for a right and a wrong where there are none, trying to find absolutes in a turbulent sea of grey.

And yet… Apollo thinks back to his image of Kristoph, completely still, but _scared_. He… he doesn't know what the thought makes him feel, either. It feels like he's splitting into a million different opinions, each with a different logic and reasoning.

First Apollo is a bit sorry. He doesn't want to see anyone petrified like this- but then again, Kristoph's done this to _so many people_. It's literally karma, at this point. Then there's the part of Apollo that hates seeing Kristoph powerless, the part of him that's still convinced that he's Kristoph's apprentice. There's that part of Apollo that still thinks of Kristoph as more than a man, that still worships him for teaching Apollo everything he knows. The thought of Kristoph the teacher, Kristoph the mentor _powerless-_ it's unsettling, in the most basic way.

Apollo stares down at the floor, but the sight doesn't register. All he can see is his mental image of Kristoph, and something about the image feels unequivocally _off._ This must be what it feels like to see a parent cry.

Of course, Apollo can't help but feel a little victorious. The spiteful side of him relishes in the sight- because _serves you right, Kristoph,_ after what you did to Trucy and Phoenix and Klavier and _Apollo._ Serves _murdering, lying, manipulating_ Kristoph Gavin right, to be scared and alone and left for dead.

"I don't-" Apollo finally sighs, closing his eyes. He almost doesn't want to say it. "I don't know, either."

"Nein, I don't expect you to." Klavier admits rather quietly, before clenching his teeth. "I just need to _understand,_ Apollo. It's driving me mad."

Apollo takes a deep breath. This… can't be good. Klavier's messing with the disaster site, unable to let it rest and recover. Apollo can't say that he doesn't respect Klavier's need, it's one he feels too, but he doesn't know what Klavier can do.

"I don't know if there _is_ an answer." Apollo says quietly, running a finger over his glass. "I mean… it's not… no one can tell you how to feel about this, Klavier."

"Nein, nein." Klavier agrees, snapping his fingers. "But I must know why, Apollo. I have to know what drove him to… _this._ "

Apollo swallows, tapping a finger against his glass. Yeah, he can't fathom an explanation for any of this, especially not one that'll make Klavier happy. "Are you… sure that you want to know?"

Klavier tilts his head down, and Apollo's suddenly struck with a shine in Klavier's eyes. It's remarkable in the familiarity of it, like sunlight glinting off of the ocean. Except… this isn't shiny. No, this is more _fiery,_ something wicked sparking in Klavier's eyes as he stands up.

All Apollo can do is blink, staring at Klavier's retreating back as he walks off.

Apollo's unmoving for a second; still until it hits him that Klavier has left the room. His brain scrambles to catch up. Uh… where is he going? What… did Apollo scare him off or something? What the hell? Does he want Apollo to follow? Is Klavier… feeling alright?

Apollo's about to get up and follow Klavier when there's a thud of footsteps in the doorway. Klavier is back, and now he has a glowing smirk to match his eyes. There's a thick case file in his hand, hanging in a loose grip.

The file hits the coffee table with a thud, and now Apollo can clearly make out a large manila folder. It's a case file, by the looks of it.

Apollo leans in closer to inspect, and- oh, huh, there's a name on this thing. Apollo has to squint to make out the scrawled handwriting, and his heart skips a beat.

 _Kristoph Gavin._

"Do I?" Klavier asks, his tone almost turning mocking. He crosses his arms, tilting his chin at the folder.

Apollo exhales. Alright, so he wants Apollo to take a look at it.

Apollo grabs for the file, sitting back on the sofa before opening it and sifting through. It's plain lawyer Christmas. Fuck, it's got everything you could wish for- a mugshot, handwriting samples, fingerprints, and- i-is that a copy of Kristoph's fucking _birth certificate_?

"Whoa," Apollo breathes. He can't stop flipping through the file, skimming everything he can see. It's got 33 years worth of information, everything from school records to employment to _blood type_.

" _Whoa,_ indeed." Klavier chuckles smugly. " _This_ is the work of my last month, Apollo. I've been trying to figure it all out ever since the Misham Trial."

"I'm convinced that I have to do _something,_ small and inconsequential as it might be." Klavier says a bit more quietly, pointing at the case file. "If anyone has the ability to understand this mess, it's me. This is my responsibility."

"Klavier, this-" Apollo says slowly, swallowing. There's a part of him that wants to ask, a part that remembers all of the missed calls- but _this…_ "You're… really doing this?"

"Ja." Klavier nods. "That's why I couldn't drink, earlier. I have a flight tomorrow morning."

"Flight?" Apollo asks, brow furrowing. Where could Klavier be going? Didn't Kristoph live here?

"To Germany." Klavier says shortly. "I didn't find anything going through his house, so I thought I'd try the old family home. It's not like anyone could stop me, I've inherited it now."

Apollo's silent, fingering the edge of the folder as it all sinks in. What Klavier's doing… it's equal parts ridiculous and wonderful.

Don't get him wrong, Apollo can remember all too many nights when he was left awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering _why._ He's come up with theories, explanation after explanation, only to shoot them all down instantly. Mr. Wright mentioned that Kristoph still has secrets, even now, but what Klavier's doing… he could get the answers. This could explain what really _happened_.

And yet… Apollo can't stop his heart from skipping a beat at the thought of Klavier flying to Germany tomorrow. There's a part of Apollo that just feels apprehensive. This is the first time he's seen Klavier in a hellish month, he just got Klavier back, and now… now he's as good as gone again. Klavier has a mission and a purpose, but he's being dragged away again.

Apollo groans. Despite his best efforts, it's like Klavier's meant to slip through Apollo's fingers, like there's some cosmic force determined to keep them apart. Apollo isn't sure _why_ he feels so suddenly protective of the man, but damn it if he doesn't want to stay close to Klavier. It's _his_ responsibility, he guesses. Klavier thinks he has to figure out Kristoph's legacy, Apollo thinks that he has to stabilize Klavier and make up for what he lost.

Apollo glances over at Klavier again. Brave, hardworking, _stupid_ Klavier, who thinks that it's _his job_ to figure all of this out, to drag answers out of a dead man.

He's not gonna give up, is he?

"Me too." Apollo hears himself say, looking up at Klavier. He sounds a lot more certain than he feels.

"Was?" Klavier asks, brow furrowing.

"I mean, I want to join you." Apollo's voice loses a bit of its strength, and he glances down into his lap, where he's still playing with the file. "If you'd let me, that is. I need answers too, I guess."

The shock hasn't left Klavier's face, and there's an icy feeling in Apollo's gut that says that he's done something wrong. He's being too overbearing, he's inviting himself over and now onto Klavier's very personal investigation? Of course Klavier will say no, he obviously doesn't want to involve anyone.

"J-ja!" Klavier stutters, much to Apollo's surprise. To be honest, he sounds like he's surprised, too.

Klavier's smile is back, but now it's warm. "Ach. You are right. I could certainly use an investigative partner."

His smile turns to something more teasing, but still bright. "We do make quite a team, don't we?"

Apollo fights the urge to pump his fist in the air and yell something. Yes! He's in! Klavier and him are a _team!_ They're gonna kick Kristoph's ass again, it'll be just like a month ago, just like their court cases together!

It feels unspeakably good to be a part of this team again, fighting for justice and clawing for answers. Apollo's missed Klavier more than he originally thought, it seems.

"You should probably get home and pack your bags then." Klavier chuckles, and his smile softens as he meets Apollo's eyes again. "We leave for Germany tomorrow morning."

* * *

 **nah klavier, real fear is looking at the clock after finishing a fanfiction chapter and- oh fuck I should be asleep fuck**


	4. Chapter 4

**aand we're back!**

* * *

What was Apollo thinking?

Apollo stares down at his phone, trying to suppress the groan that's rising up in his chest. You know, the more he thinks about this investigation, the more _stupid_ of an idea this all seems.

Yeah, Apollo needs answers, and yeah, Mr. Wright said that he was free to take some time off, but the more Apollo tries to formulate this conversation in his head, the more he wants to faceplant into his pillow and give up. This truly is ridiculous.

Apollo needs to call Mr. Wright and let him know that he won't be at work tomorrow, but he doesn't know how to phrase it without sounding like he lost it. How does one even begin to explain this?

 _Oh, hi, Mr. Wright, I didn't see you there. Just wanted to let you know that I'm dropping everything and flying to fucking Germany tomorrow. No, I've never been before, in fact, I haven't ever left America, despite having a passport. Don't worry, though, I'm going with a guy I've known for a couple of months. He's the last immediate relative of the serial killer we're investigating. I'm sure everything will be totally fine, ja?_

Apollo sighs heavily. Maybe he really did lose it

Oh well. Time to throw caution to the winds and just dial the number.

 _Oh, and I also don't speak a word of German, apart from the shit Klavier says._

The dial tone has never sounded this mocking.

There's a click as the phone is picked up, and Mr. Wright finally yawns a greeting. It's high and slurred, thick with sleepiness. "Hello?"

"Mr. Wright! Hi!" Apollo says, and he can't keep the relief out of his voice. Good, he picked up.

Apollo slides his phone in between his shoulder and ear. The other end of the phone seems oddly silent, especially for Mr. Wright. "So, uh, how are you?"

"Apollo?" Mr. Wright asks drowsily, with a tone almost like he can't believe what he's hearing. "Apollo, it's midnight."

Oh _shit._ Apollo glances over at the clock next to his bed and- fuck, Mr. Wright is right. It's midnight. How the hell did Apollo miss that? He should have just written an email, this was a ridiculous idea.

"Ah! Sorry! Didn't notice!" Apollo yelps, still staring at the clock. It's _really_ midnight? Certainly doesn't feel like it. "I've been packing for awhile now, sorry."

"Packing?" Mr. Wright sounds a bit more awake now that he's trying to follow the conversation.

"Yeah. I wanted to tell you that I'm taking that break after all. I'm leaving for Germany tomorrow morning." Apollo explains, finishing with an exhale. Ok. That sounds less bad than the five hundred practice explanations.

"Hah! I knew it!" Apollo yanks the phone away from his ear, staring in shock as Mr. Wright's tinny yell _somehow_ is still audible at this length. "Going to Germany, eh? You've hooked up with Gavin! Trucy owes me 10 bucks!"

"M-Mr. Wright!" Apollo's turned bright red. What the _fuck?!_ W-what is he talking about?!

"No- I haven't- this is strictly on business- _hooked up with Gavin!?"_ Apollo yells into the phone, finally able to stop stuttering. Wait, 10 bucks? His boss was making _bets_ on him and _Klavier Gavin_ hooking up?!

Apollo's on the verge of yelling some more colorful stuff when Mr. Wright interrupts, sighing.

"Drat." He mutters. "I would have liked to win that bet, I really could use some extra cash right now. Miles and I have our anniversary next week and I haven't bought anything yet."

Apollo blinks. Well, there are some personal details come right the fuck out of nowhere. It's silent for a beat, Apollo literally cannot think of anything to say.

"You think flowers are okay?" Mr. Wright blurts.

"Uh, depends." Apollo bites back his sigh. Their conversation is completely off track now. Classic Mr. Wright. "What anniversary is this?"

"Eight year? Ish?" Mr. Wright asks. "I mean, we kissed for the first time like eight years ago, and we started dating right after that, but with the whole disbarment thing and Miles being in Europe-"

"They'd better be nice flowers." Apollo interrupts, and he's too weary to lift his voice above a deadpan. "Just take him out to dinner, Mr. Wright."

"Mhm. Thanks Apollo." Mr. Wright sounds relieved, like this has bothered him for awhile. At least he finally got this off his chest.

"Wait…" Mr. Wright says slowly, like he's just realized something. "So you _are_ going with Gavin?"

"Um." Apollo's caught off guard with the subject change. Sure took him awhile, didn't it? "Yeah?"

"On _business?_ " Mr. Wright asks incredulously, and Apollo rolls his eyes at the disbelieving tone.

"Don't use the air quotes, Mr. Wright. I know you are." Apollo sighs. He's much too tired for this argument. "It _is_ on business. We're investigating Kristoph's old place. Trying to dig up some answers."

No answer.

For a split second Apollo is afraid that Mr. Wright hung up on him, but no, there's no tone. It's just immediately silent on Mr. Wright's end of the phone, almost uncharacteristically so.

It's weirdly out of place, like the man's finally been sobered. Apollo can almost see that permanent smile wiped off of Mr. Wright's face, the man standing still like he's been frozen with frank reality.

Apollo doesn't know what he's said, but all of a sudden it feels like the jokey atmosphere Mr. Wright always carries around him is cracking.

"Listen, Apollo," Mr. Wright finally says, speaking slowly and deliberately. "You know that I investigated… _that man_ for seven years of my life, right?"

Apollo nods, before remembering that Mr. Wright can't see him. "Y-yes."

"Do you know why I stopped?" Mr. Wright asks quietly, and Apollo racks his brain. This feels like one of those questions you're not supposed to have an answer to.

"Because you had enough evidence to convict him?" Apollo guesses, and he can hear a small, tired laugh from Mr. Wright.

"No, no. I wish." Mr. Wright snickers, and the noise almost carries an air of bitterness. Apollo knew that the guess was wrong, anyways; Mr. Wright had to invent the Jurist System to nail Kristoph. Apollo remembers the trial like it was yesterday, the feeling of completely trapped without decisive evidence and a motive.

"Well, in part, I guess." Mr. Wright muses, thinking back. "In the end, though, I stopped because I was becoming obsessed. I convinced myself that I _needed to know_ why my badge was taken, why any of this happened to me- and Trucy, for that matter. I told myself that I had to figure it out, because it was _my fault_ that Zak was nearly found guilty, and _my fault_ that Trucy was parentless. I thought that I needed to understand _why_ any of it happened before I could fix it."

Apollo suppresses a shiver. All of this sounds too familiar for his liking.

 _I just need to understand, Apollo. It's driving me mad. I must know why, Apollo. I have to know what drove him to… this._

 _This is the work of my last month, Apollo. I've been trying to figure it all out ever since the Misham Trial. I'm convinced that I have to do something, small and inconsequential as it might be. If anyone has the ability to understand this mess, it's me. This is my responsibility._

"You don't?" Apollo asks, and it sounds abrupt in the silence. "Have to understand to heal, I mean."

"No. You don't." Mr. Wright says curtly, and from there his tone turns remorseful. "I was spending too much time on my investigation. I almost ignored you and Trucy, telling myself that what I was doing was the only way to keep you two safe. I did many things that I regret now, and I just _wish_ I had just gotten my badge back and moved on sooner."

Apollo closes his eyes, concentrating on the words. What Mr. Wright is telling him seems completely transparent, and he's grateful for the advice. When it comes to investigating Kristoph, there's no better expert than Mr. Wright, and it helps to get his take on the situation.

" _That man_ is an enigma, Apollo, and it's best left to keep it that way." Mr. Wright spits, suddenly turned indignant. "You and Klavier are free to do as you like, but keep my warning in mind. He is a mystery that is meant to be left unsolved."

"Okay." Apollo nods. He isn't quite sure what to make of this.

Mr. Wright sounds like he believes what he's saying, but the words seem so unlike him. Hell, he's _giving up._ As a lawyer, Apollo's been trained to believe that there is no unsolvable mystery, that every question has an answer and every event an explanation. It's not in his nature for Apollo to leave a case to rest, let the motives remain unexplained. That's the point of this investigation, right? To figure out Kristoph once and for all, to understand what happened and reconcile the different faces of Kristoph Gavin.

Maybe, Apollo realizes, that's why Mr. Wright doesn't understand. He never saw Kristoph as anything other than a threat, so Kristoph being a threat isn't anything new. It's different to Apollo and Klavier, though, irrevocably so. Kristoph didn't begin a threat; he began a mentor, a brother. The two of them _can't_ move on because they can't leave Kristoph behind yet, because they _have_ to know Kristoph to move on.

"Watch out for yourself, okay?" Mr. Wright asks quietly, and sincerity seeps into his voice. "Klavier, too. Don't let yourselves become obsessed. Don't let _him_ ruin your lives."

"A little late for that." Apollo jokes with a wan smile, and Mr. Wright laughs. It's a little forced, but it's there.

"Have a nice trip, Apollo." Mr. Wright's voice is back to normal now, a bit jovial and a bit teasing. "Take care of yourself, and remember to have fun."

"Yes, dad," Apollo says sarcastically, and Mr. Wright's laugh this time is genuine.

"Seriously, though?" Mr. Wright asks. "Keep this all in mind, even if you don't think it's useful."

Apollo blinks. How did Mr. Wright know that he was questioning it?

"Trust me on this." Mr. Wright repeats. "Have a safe trip!"

"Thank you!" Apollo manages to cut in before Mr. Wright hangs up, and there's a click as the call ends.

Apollo sighs, letting his hand drop and hang by his side. He isn't sure what to think of what just happened.

Mr. Wright is usually weird, but today he seems more clairvoyant than usual. He's definitely telling what he believes is the truth; Apollo wouldn't even need his bracelet to know that. That leaves one question: why does he believe this?

It's probably the difference in relationships. Mr. Wright only ever saw one Kristoph, the threatening equal, so he was never taken off guard, or betrayed. Klavier and Apollo saw multiple Kristophs: ones they have to reconcile in order to leave it to rest.

They have to understand the _real_ Kristoph in order to do that.

Apollo stares down into his suitcase. Thank goodness, he's pretty much packed by now. Apart from morning things like his toothbrush and cell phone, he's completely packed. He's got everything: hair gel and shampoo, his bracelet (it's easier not to wear it through the metal detectors), and casual clothes that Klavier will definitely tease him about. All of the essentials for your spur of the moment trip to Germany.

Apollo sighs. There's still a part of him that can't believe that he's doing this. He's going to Germany with Klavier Gavin, and they're investigating the late Kristoph. It all feels _weird,_ but strangely _right_.

There's a rumble from his hand, and Apollo stares down to see that- oh, someone's calling him.

Apollo squints at the caller ID. Klavier.

"Hey." Apollo says instantly, picking up with practiced ease.

"Hallo." Klavier says cheerfully, and far too energetically for the time. "I apologize for calling you now, but it's urgent."

He does genuinely sound sorry. "I've confirmed your ticket, Apollo. We fly tomorrow."

"Oh." Apollo feels a rush, and his cheeks heat up. Klavier bought him a plane ticket. "You- you really didn't have to do that, I can pay for-"

"Nein, nein." Klavier waves it all off like it's nothing. "Consider it a favor, ja? In fact, consider this whole trip a favor. It'd be my pleasure."

Apollo isn't convinced. He doesn't want to be babied, he can take care of himself. "N-no, really, I don't want to owe you anything-"

"You don't, Apollo." Klavier says softly, and Apollo's taken aback by the sudden sincerity of it. "You don't owe me anything, ever."

Apollo lets it go quiet for a moment, waiting before he pipes up again. "Klavier?"

"Ja?"

Apollo closes his eyes, letting the words rush out. "Thank you, Klavier. For everything."

Klavier chuckles. "Now, don't thank me yet. I'll text you the flight information, ja? Do you need a ride tomorrow?"

"Nah." Apollo waves a hand. "I'll just bike over. That way, even if I do spend a whole trip being pampered by you, I can at least get my exercise for one day."

"A whole trip pampering you…" Klavier muses, sounding a little too happy. "Now there's an idea."

"H-hey!" Apollo's blush is back with a vengeance. "D-don't-!"

Klavier's outright laughing now. "Gott, I'll never tire of teasing you. Gute nacht, Apollo, and I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night." Apollo mumbles, still feeling pretty embarrassed. Klavier hangs up, and Apollo can't help but feel a little frustrated.

Yeah, he's blushing like hell, but why does a trip of being pampered by Klavier Gavin sound _so damn good?_

It'd probably sound good to any practically broke twenty-something, Apollo tries to reason, but he doesn't completely believe it. Why is it that the idea of _Klavier Gavin_ is so appealing all of a sudden?

Apollo groans, rubbing his eyes. He doesn't need to overthink this. It's just a work trip; they're just investigating Kristoph. That's more than enough emotional baggage for one trip, so he'll just have to put this Klavier thing- whatever it is- on the back burner for now.

Glancing back at the clock reminds Apollo that it's midnight, and the drowsiness behind his eyes starts to win him over. Yeah, Apollo should probably get some sleep. He can think about all of this in the morning, from Mr. Wright's warning to Kristoph's legacy to whatever it is about Klavier.

Apollo sighs. Just with that sentence, he can see that this all is shaping up to be one gigantic mess.

* * *

 **BECAUSE YOUR EGO IS ENORMOUS**

 **AND YOU'RE THE KINDA GUY WHO'D SPOIL ME TOO MUCH**

 **IT'S ENORMOUS**

 **AND IT'S NOT FAIR BECAUSE I REALLY WANNA**

 **TOUCH YOU ANYWHERE YOU WANT ME TO**

 **BUT MAN YOU'RE SUCH A FLAUNT**

 **EMBRASSING TO BE AROUND**

 **YOUR MUSIC SUCKS I HATE THE SOUND**

 **I KNOW WE'RE JUST TWO LONELY GUYS**

 **STARIN' IN EACH OTHERS' EYES**

 **Ok I need to stop I have a legitimate thing to say.**

 **So uh… I'm currently in a grueling academic workshop/camp/thing, and my free time has been slashed to nil. Trust me when I say that I'm doing everything I can to keep on writing, but the sad reality is that I have far less time to do _anything_. So for the next two weeks, updates may get more sparse. I'm really sorry. Until next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, this took awhile. Really sorry for the wait. I don't want to make excuses, but I've been feeling under the weather lately and now I'm visiting family, so my free time is basically nill. I haven't even gotten a chance to answer PMs. I'm sorry, but my summer schedule is ridiculous, to say the absolute least. But uh, anyways, new chapter!**

* * *

"First class?" Apollo asks in disbelief.

He's dumbfounded, blindsided, caught off-guard- take your pick, really. All he can do is stare at the seats just in front of him, unable to even blink.

They're flying in _first class?_

Apollo means... _yeah_ , Klavier is a world famous man who's probably rolling in money, but Apollo…

Apollo never thought he'd be flying first class.

Ever.

"Would I get you anything less, mein Apollo?" Klavier asks, turning to face Apollo with an easy smile. It's something that hasn't left his face all morning, coupled with a messy bun (so the fräuleins don't recognize me, ja?) and soft, yet tired lines around his eyes. Klavier may have sacrificed his usual style for the sake of anonymity, but his comfortably happy demeanor is just the same.

He reaches for Apollo's carry-on before the man can protest, lifting it and hoisting it to the above space.

"Now," Klavier grunts, shoving Apollo's bag away. "Window seat or aisle seat?"

Apollo was going to say something about the bag- I can do it myself, you don't have to, let me- but now all he can do is gape. W- How can Klavier ask something so trivial when this is so much bigger than that?!

Apollo ignores the question. "You… you got me a first class ticket on an 11 hour flight only hours before taking off! That must've cost a fortune!"

"Nein, nein." Klavier tries to wave it off, as casual as can be. He closes the upper hatch over their bags. "It is nothing, really. Window or aisle?"

 _"Klavier!"_ Apollo shouts, balling his fists.

It's suddenly quiet all around, like the cabin has been muted, and Apollo realizes that his comment came out louder than he intended. Everyone boarding nearby is staring, and Apollo can feel his cheeks heating up.

Apollo develops a sudden interest in the floor.

"L-look," Apollo hisses at Klavier, dropping his voice enough to be safely ignored again. "You can't pay for stuff like this and act like it's no problem, like you're my sugar daddy or something-"

Klavier's face takes on a faux hurt expression. "I'm not?"

" _Shut up!_ _"_ Now Apollo's completely red, blushing like hell on top of everything. "I just- you're doing all this stuff for me and just brushing it off-"

"Well, _ja."_ Klavier says it like it's obvious, voice becoming a little quieter. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Apollo. You are my…"

He swallows, speaking carefully. "…investigative partner."

Apollo frowns. Something about this still feels off, but Klavier is sounding a little funny now. It's almost like he's trying to choke something back, something he really wants to say, and that's... a little worrying.

Besides, Klavier's stubborn enough to keep this going for awhile. Apollo decides to let it rest.

"Y-yeah…" Apollo mumbles.

Klavier's easy smile is back. "So. Window?"

"I'll take aisle." Apollo sighs, defeated.

He still doesn't like how nonchalant Klavier is being about all of this, even if Apollo can't pinpoint exactly _why_ it bothers him so much. The answer is the sensation of a word he just can't remember, hanging on the tip of his tongue.

Klavier sidles over to his seat with a nod, before sitting down and leaning back with a little sigh. "Gott, I am tired. How are you faring, Apollo?"

Apollo knows what he's doing. Klavier's diverting, changing the subject- not that it isn't welcome.

" _You're_ the one who skipped out on coffee, earlier." Apollo says as he flops down into his seat. He's instantly surprised at how soft it is- like a sofa, only on a plane. "But I'm good, thanks for asking."

"I don't drink coffee!" Klavier interjects defensively, just as a low, artificial ping sounds throughout the plane. There's a brief moment of silence before the obligatory safety video begins playing, the usual about life jackets underneath seats and breathing masks and whatnot.

"I think I will take a nap," Klavier announces after just a moment of thought, going on as though the video isn't even playing. "I certainly have the time for it, nein?"

He has 11 hours, if Apollo remembers correctly. More than enough time for even a long nap.

Of course, Apollo's had his coffee, so sleeping is out of the question for him. Looks like he has 11 hours to kill.

Apollo frowns. That's daunting, in a way. "Mmm. Dunno what I'll do."

"Ach! Do not worry. I thought about that." Klavier says brightly, snapping his fingers.

He leans over and reaches for the floor, shuffling through the bag under his seat. "I wondered if you might want to take a look at-"

He sits up again, facing Apollo with a triumphant grin. " _This_."

Apollo glances down at whatever Klavier's holding out. It turns out to be the case file from yesterday, a seemingly ordinary folder that is actually an obsessive compilement of all things Kristoph.

Apollo swears that it's only gotten thicker.

"Oh yeah! You showed me this yesterday." Apollo takes the file eagerly, flipping through a bit. "You're right, Klavier. Thanks."

"Ach! While we're on the subject of yesterday…" Klavier looks a little apprehensive now, eyes flicking down to the floor. "I'd… I'd just like to apologize for my behavior last night, Apollo."

Apollo blinks. What... What is he apologizing _for?_

He racks his brain, going through everything that happened, and... yeah, yesterday Klavier was acting fine to him- better than fine, actually. It was far better than anything Apollo would expect from someone in Klavier's situation. Klavier had been full of conflicting feelings, alone after the loss of a brother, and yet… Klavier was hospitable and kind, even though he was still understandably hurt.

Klavier continues on despite this, fiddling with a bang absentmindedly. "I understand that I become quite… maudlin, with grief."

"Maudlin." Apollo repeats blankly. He forces himself to think, trying to think of something to say, something normal enough to derail Klavier.

"Big word for a rockstar like you." Apollo finally says, putting on a teasing smile.

"You wound me." Klavier replies, though there's no bite to his words. The smile on his face is comfortable again, although maybe a little dazed. Apollo can believe that he's tired, looking at the quiet weariness in his eyes.

All of a sudden there's a low rumble, and the airplane starts with a purr of the engine. They begin rolling along the runway, moving at a steady enough pace to see pavement and sky fly by the windows.

"Wake me up for lunch, bitte." Klavier requests, tilting his head back to rest against the cushions. Apollo barely has time to nod before Klavier's eyes are shut, and his breathing slows nearly to a halt. He's peacefully asleep in a mere instant, out like a light.

Apollo, on the other hand, currently has the armrest in a death grip. He doesn't fly often, didn't do it at _all_ as a kid, so the sensation of it all is frankly unnerving. Something is building in his ears, and the whole plane seems to be vibrating all around him. He hasn't a clue how people like Klavier can _sleep_ through this.

Apollo gives a small gasp as they finally lift off, struck with the sudden and abrupt feeling of weightlessness. That moment has always felt a little weird to him, when the rumbling stops and they just _glide._

The plane is in full ascent now, and Apollo leans forwards to take a look out of Klavier's window. Thankfully, he hasn't pulled up the cover, so the view is clear.

Yeah, Apollo prefers the aisle seat for accessibility, but the view from the window seat is undeniably beautiful. Seeing everything shrink and shrink and shrink like that, getting smaller until entire cities are little more than colorful blips is just… _mesmerizing._

Their ascent finally plateaus just above the clouds, a thick layer that looks fluffy and real enough to touch up here. They're intricately sculpted, a whipped white background around a bright blue sky.

There's another ping echoing around the cabin, and Apollo glances up to see that the mandatory seatbelt sign is off.

He snickers. Yeah, right. Like he'd take off his seatbelt now, as they hurl at unthinkable speeds through ridiculous heights.

Apollo settles down as the plane levels, yawning to relieve the pain in his ears. It's calm and quiet now, silent save for snatches of conversations and the background humming of the plane.

Looking down, Apollo suddenly remembers the file in his lap. Right… he should probably start reading that. He _did_ invite himself to this investigation, after all.

Apollo finally lets go of the armrest, flipping the case file open. Might as well start from the beginning.

It doesn't take long for Apollo to lose himself in the report, reading through every line with practiced concentration. It's thorough and detailed, and whatever isn't originally specified is in Klavier's messily scribbled notes in the margins. He's obviously worked day and night on this; putting all of his energy and thoughts into it. The way he's compiled all of this information is equal parts genius and paranoid, with careful attention to every little detail that exists.

It's a few more pages before Apollo risks a glance at the man himself, fast asleep in the seat next to him.

Just as he does Klavier's head lolls to the side, mouth hanging open. His arms are haphazardly positioned with no particular goal in mind, completely limp. All tension is gone from all parts of his body, and a tiny bit of drool gathers at the corner of his mouth.

Even so, he manages to look… sweet. With his longer bangs escaping from the bun and dusting his nose, and that peaceful expression on his face, Klavier Gavin looks just _sweet._

Even if he is drooling.

Apollo smiles to himself. Paranoid genius, indeed.

"Anything to drink?"

Apollo jumps, snapped out of his reverie by the stewardess standing over him. He's suddenly over-aware of a cold sweat on his palms, paired with the sensation of his heart being squeezed. _Shit. Shit. Shit. She caught him staring at Klavier Gavin. He was gaping like an idiot and smiling and she saw it all._

"Y-yeah," Apollo stutters, trying to force his brain into thinking anything but _shit._

 _Klavier_ _ **did**_ _look cute just then, with his chest rising and falling oh-so-gently-_

Okay, that's not much better, internal monologue.

She looks expectantly at him, and Apollo jerks again, realizing that he's supposed to say something here. _Shit, Apollo, think!_

He feels horribly warm just remembering that Klavier is right next to him, absolutely content and gorgeous-

"Water!" Apollo manages to choke out, mouth dry and hands sweaty. "Just… water. Please."

The stewardess looks like she's considering giving him a funny look, but decides against it in the name of polite service. She pours him some water, holding out the cup.

She glances down at the files in his lap. "Work?"

"Something like that." Is the only response the flustered Apollo can think of, taking the plastic cup of water. He only takes a sip before the stewardess finally leaves. Then Apollo puts it away, returning to his file. Now really isn't the time to moon over Klavier Gavin, even with how oddly right it feels.

Apollo stares back down at the case file again, but now he can't concentrate. He fingers the edge of the page nervously, rereading the same sentence over and over again in vain. It's no use, he hasn't a clue what it's saying. His mind has begun to wander.

Faced with the pictures of Kristoph and his surroundings in the plane, Apollo is vaguely reminded of something. He racks his brain for the answer, straining through his memories, and suddenly, something clicks. Something takes over in Apollo's brain, and he remembers.

Apollo can't help but think of the last time he was on a plane.

 _"It wasn't much trouble." Kristoph says with that eerily pleasant little smile, tilting his head to the side._

 _"Are you sure, sir?" Apollo asks, staring down at his feet. Plane tickets are far from cheap, he knows that, and Kristoph doesn't expect him to pay_ _ **any**_ _of it back._

 _"Really, Justice. A thank you would suffice." Kristoph's smile doesn't budge, it never does. "After all, I can hardly show up at this case without my subordinate."_

 _Apollo flushes red. It_ _'s flattering to be chosen like this, to be the one Kristoph is bringing along for his out-of-town cases. Apollo isn't really sure what Kristoph sees in him, but the man seems to have taken a real liking to Apollo._

 _Kristoph is… amazing. Kristoph is everything one could want in a boss. He's courteous, respectful, elegant and brilliant. His smile is always on his face, and he's good to his employees. He expects a lot, sure, but with him, Apollo feels the drive to succeed. Apollo wants to impress him,_ ** _needs_** _to._

 _"Just…" Kristoph adjusts his glasses, and a glint flickers through the glass. Glancing at the movement, Apollo notices that Kristoph's hand looks a little weird right now, actually. "Consider yourself in my debt, Justice. Remember favors like this."_

 _Apollo nods readily. "Of course, sir!"_

 _Remember favors like this._

Remember favors like this.

 _Bullshit,_ Apollo wants to say, but…

This probably wasn't the way Kristoph wanted him to remember, but Apollo _does._ He remembers the favors, how they piled up into debt, how every one tugged at him when he tried to stand against Kristoph. Plane tickets, meals, rides, even smiles were tallied up, a crushing weight of Kristoph's _kindnesses_.

It all hit Apollo as he was walking out of the courthouse, just after his first trial, and he felt sick to his stomach. How could he? How could he betray Kristoph like this, when the man had done so much for him?

Apollo's smarter now, though. He knows now not to be bogged down with guilt like that, not to let people like Kristoph make him feel like he owes something. He doesn't owe _anything_ to men like Kristoph.

Apollo remembers, though. He remembers, and that's why even today, Klavier's generosity feels wrong to him. He doesn't want to be in Klavier's debt, much as he does trust the man.

Apollo doesn't want to be in _anyone's_ debt. Nice as it does sound to be treated by Klavier, Apollo can't. Not yet. He _knows_ that it's no strings attached, that Klavier is as much a victim as Apollo and that Klavier would _never_ use a favor against him, but…

Fear isn't really rational, is it?

All of sudden there's a little noise from Klavier, something sounding vaguely strangled, and Apollo is jerked out of his reverie. Apollo twists to face Klavier, shushing the man soothingly before he can even think.

Klavier's jaw is clenched; eyes scrunched shut in what almost looks like pain. He flinches and Apollo glances around, looking for some way to comfort his companion.

"Shhh," Apollo whispers. Before he can stop himself, his hand closes over Klavier's, and he squeezes lightly.

Apollo instantly freezes, realizing what he's just done. Fuck. Fuck. He doesn't know why he just did that. It was kind of a reflex, really, even though it feels kind of nice-

Klavier whimpers again, shivering, and Apollo doesn't hesitate. He runs a thumb over the back of Klavier's hand, reassuring and gentle.

"Shh, Klavier." He whispers. "It's okay. I'm right here."

The sound of his voice is almost like magic to Klavier. His expression clears instantly, his face relaxes and his breathing slows. He's fast asleep again, head drifting down… down…

Klavier's head is resting on Apollo's shoulder.

And they're holding hands.

Apollo's completely red now; all he can feel is the softness of Klavier's cheek. It's warm enough to be felt through Apollo's shirt, just the right combination of sensations to make Apollo's heart race.

Klavier's hand tightens around Apollo's, and Apollo's lips quirk in a smile. Oh, so Klavier's a cuddler when he's asleep.

A cuddler and a drooler, Apollo suddenly remembers, checking if- good, Klavier's hanging jaw is shut. Apollo's shirt is safe.

Strangely enough, this… isn't that bad. There's something calming about having Klavier pressing against him, completely asleep, limbs slack and face serene.

Apollo's just glad that he's here on this trip, that he can _be_ here for Klavier. He's worried, especially after yesterday. The way Klavier shook helplessly after the funeral, standing completely alone… it's a sight that Apollo hates, a sight he never wants to see again.

Apollo squeezes Klavier's hand again.

 _He's right here._

* * *

 **Apollo thinks he's joined an investigation, but really he's joined an investig-gay-sin.**

 **...sorry, I've been waiting awhile to use that one.**

 **So... yeah, I'll try and have the next chapter out soon. I guess I know what I want to do now, but am not quite sure how to write it. Either way, it's time for me to get cracking!**

 **...in whatever free time I can get...**


	6. Chapter 6

**well I think I've managed to stop wallowing in self-pity now.**

 **anyways this is for my husbando who still isn't back from The War**

* * *

It's completely dark outside when the plane finally lands in Munich, sometime in the early AMs. It's one of those hours that is indistinguishable from the others, late enough to become early.

The glowing seatbelt sign flickers and the pilot's voice crackles over the intercom, but both are ignored by Klavier and Apollo.

"Welcome to Deutschland, mein Apollo." Klavier whispers with a grin, leaning close enough to be heard.

Apollo immediately rolls his eyes. A welcome may be a bit premature. It's barely been an instant since they've touched down.

Klavier's constant talking isn't anything new, though, even with how quiet the rest of the plane is being. Klavier's been chatting with Apollo for the past few hours, offering his usual easy small talk over their meals. It's comfortable enough, easier than talking about whatever happened earlier. It's easier than thinking about just _why_ Klavier's skin feels so good on Apollo's, why _Apollo,_ a grown man, is fawning over teen idol Klavier Gavin like he's a sixteen-year-old girl.

 _It's lunchtime._

 _Apollo shifts in his seat, looking over at the man next to him. Apollo's been holding Klavier's hand ever since the man stirred, rhythmically stroking a thumb over the back of his hand. Klavier's head still hasn't left his shoulder, tucked snugly in the crook of his neck._

 _He's doing this for Klavier, Apollo tells himself, over and over again. He's doing this because Klavier needs the comfort, because he needs the physical reassurance that he isn't alone. That's why Apollo came, after all. For answers, and to help Klavier._

 _Apollo doesn't want to wake Klavier up, though, even if it is time. The man looks strangely nice like this, leaning against Apollo in his sleep. His face is close enough for Apollo to see every long eyelash, feel every slow breath Klavier takes._

 _It's rare enough to see Klavier like this, unguarded and content. He's not pretending, not hurt, just happily calm. It's something Apollo's always wished he could see, something he's wished Klavier could feel._

 _It was then, staring at that peaceful, sculpted face, that Apollo made a promise to himself. At the end of all this, when everything is said and done, Klavier will be happy. Apollo swears it. He will be genuinely happy, letting the past rest, having gained everything to live for._

 _That will be Apollo's mission._

 _Apollo finally finds the strength to let go of Klavier's hand, nudging him on the shoulder. "Klavier? Klavier, wake up…"_

Klavier will be happy.

Apollo hasn't forgotten his vow. He suspects he never will. He's made a promise to himself, one that he will _never_ break.

Apollo is going to make Klavier happy again. He will get Klavier the closure he deserves, no matter what it takes. According to what's happened so far, answers will make Klavier happy, so answers Apollo will get. He _will._ Even if it's the last thing he ever does.

Which, you know, it probably won't be. They're investigating an old house, after all. What's Apollo expecting, a deadly toaster?

Apollo frowns. Actually, knowing Kristoph…

"Is something wrong?"

Apollo blinks, glancing around and trying to place the- right. That's Klavier talking. He's standing just to Apollo's left on the escalator, with a little crease in his brow.

He looks worried.

Apollo's own glower disappears immediately as he looks down, shaking his head.

"Nah." Apollo says. No need to talk about Kristoph _now._ "I'm fine."

Klavier's smile is back, relaxed as ever. "Good to hear."

Apollo can't help but match the smile, feeling every last bit of tension leave his face. The longer Apollo spends with Klavier, the more he realizes just how much he missed the man. His calm, optimistic attitude is just infectious.

Sure, Klavier still seems far from his usual sparkly self, but even with light bags under his eyes and wispy hairs escaping from his bun, he's nowhere _near_ how Apollo and the rest of the bleary-eyed passengers look. He's still composed, almost ruggedly weary. Like it's intentional. The rest of them just resemble zombies, shuffling through the plane and ramps with a heavy, exhausted air about them.

"Apollo, would you mind getting our luggage?" Klavier asks as he steps off of the escalator, hitching his carry-on bag farther up on his shoulders. "I must go rent us a car, nein?"

"Sure!" Apollo says instantly. That's simple enough. "Sure, sure."

"Uhh…" Apollo drones. Shit. All of a sudden he feels like he's missing something important, something he needs in order to do his job. He presses a finger to his forehead, trying to think of what he needs.

Oh, right! "What does your bag look like, again?"

Klavier chuckles. "It's a dark mauve, Apollo. You'll… know it when you see it, ja?"

Apollo barely holds back a groan at that. He's been with Klavier for long enough to speak fop, and he knows that this latest comment roughly translates to _"it's very tacky, ja?"_

Although, considering that this is Klavier, Apollo isn't exactly sure what he _was_ expecting. Tacky is Klavier's middle name.

"So where do I meet you?" Apollo asks, glancing around for the directions to baggage claim. The little suitcase icon… that's the sign for it, right? So it's gotta be up ahead.

"Ah, just outside, nein?" Klavier replies. "Don't worry, I will find you."

" _Not_ exactly reassuring." Apollo mumbles. He _really_ prefers to have a plan in situations like these. There are too many things to go wrong here! He doesn't speak German, he has no cellular data because he's abroad…

For all intents and purposes, Apollo is completely stranded without Klavier.

"Stop _worrying,_ Apollo." Klavier laughs. He leans in a bit, close enough for their foreheads to touch. "You are far handsomer without wrinkles, nein?"

"K-!" Apollo jerks away, caught off guard by the flirtatious comment. He flushes red as Klavier laughs again, realizing that he's fallen for Klavier's usual stunts. "That's… just go get us a car, will you?"

"Ja, ja." Klavier says good-naturedly, still smiling. "I will wait for you outside."

He turns in the other direction then, walking away in what Apollo assumes is the direction of the airport car rental.

Apollo sighs.

 _Klavier._

Why is he so impossible to deal with?

Apollo smolders all the way to the baggage claim, thinking frustratedly to himself. Of _course_ Klavier knows that Apollo is attracted to him, he must know. Rockstar intuition or something. That's gotta be why he's flirting like this, to make Apollo frustrated. So that one day Apollo will slip and say _yes,_ because that's what he's thinking all the time, and then Klavier will laugh. Then he'll laugh at Apollo.

Apollo scans the baggage carousel, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. This is just like Klavier, honestly, doesn't the man have any-

Wait. Apollo starts, thinking back to the beginning of his rant.

 _Attracted?_

Apollo's… attracted to Klavier. Oh _fuck,_ he… he really is. It's official now. The sweaty palms, racing heart… that's gotta be it, right? That's why Apollo likes being near Klavier so much. Oh, _fuck._

But, Apollo thinks to himself when he spots his suitcase, heading over to grab it, isn't he far past boyish crushes like this? He's in his twenties, far too old for a flirtatious rockstar. Far too old to be seduced by long, soft blonde locks, ones that smell faintly of perfume… like cinnamon…

Apollo winces. He really can't help it, can he?

He's probably just tired, he tries to reason with himself. He'll rethink this in the morning. Apollo's just stressed, and grateful to see Klavier again. This has gotta be… nothing. Who hooks up with their coworker, anyways?

Apollo's overthinking this. He just needs to grab Klavier's suitcase.

Oh, right. That. Apollo needs to keep an eye out for anything ridiculous, or at the very least, anything odd enough to be Klavier's. As he waits, there are a few pink suitcases that he suspects, but they're all picked up pretty quickly.

Apollo shakes his head. No, the color can't be it. When _Klavier_ hints that something of his is tacky, that means that it's more than just an unusual color.

Although, considering Klavier, pink isn't that much of an unusual color.

Apollo snickers. _Mauve,_ indeed.

He looks down at his own retrieved suitcase, his usual gaudy red, as though to check that it's still there. Long story short, it is- still bright red, slightly scratched, with a tag wrapped around the handle.

Apollo sighs and looks back up at the carousel, searching for another suitcase. One down, one to go-

Apollo blinks. Now that he's looked up, he's realized that in addition to him, there are a couple of people staring. He follows their eyes to a shiny purple suitcase, one that's just come out. It's flashy as hell, emblazoned with a black G on it that Apollo recognizes as the Gavinners logo.

Fuck.

That must be it.

Apollo sighs, rolling his eyes. So much for flying under the radar.

Although, he thinks bitterly, it was probably a strategic move on Klavier's part to make _Apollo_ get the Gavinners suitcase. A tall blonde man that resembles Klavier Gavin with a suitcase like that is a tip-off, but Apollo…

Apollo probably just looks like a super-obsessive fan.

Apollo's face heats up the second he's holding it. It's just plain embarrassing for a grown man to be holding this, especially with the looks people were _already_ giving it. Now Apollo has practically shouted " _yes, this is mine!_ " to everyone around him.

His cheeks are completely red as he drags it back to his own suitcase, praying that no one is looking at him. Please. This is already weird enough.

Ok, Apollo thinks bitterly, so Apollo did his part. Now he just needs to find Klavier- sans directions or a meeting place.

Simple.

Apollo sighs. He must look like he's lost it right about now, toting two suitcases- one bright red, and one purple with a G on it- through a German airport, wandering around with no idea where he's going. He must have walked down this hallway five times by now, just hoping that he'll find Klavier.

Apollo racks his brain for something, anything to help.

 _I will wait for you outside,_ isn't that what Klavier said?

Alright, so Apollo has to make it outside. Easy enough.

Apollo turns and walks to the side, headed for one of the glass doors on the side of the room. He's passed the exit enough times to know it by heart.

He rams into the door with a shoulder, holding it open as he awkwardly maneuvers the suitcases out. They roll onto the pavement thankfully easily, and Apollo follows them through the door, immediately hit with the musky warmth of the outside air. It smells slightly of gas out here, humid enough to feel like a warm blanket wrapped around him. It's certainly warmer than Apollo expected.

Apollo blinks once he's able to look up again. The sun may be long down, but it's still very bright out here, with dotting lights everywhere from streetlights to headlights. He's stepped out onto the curb of a street, a busy one, lined with way too many cars for the early hour it is.

Apollo's eyes widen as he takes it all in, trying to suppress a groan. Oh, come on! He knew this plan was a bad idea. How the hell is he supposed to find Klavier in this many cars, especially when he doesn't know which one Klavier is?

Apollo scans the lot, searching for any sign of Klavier. The hair, the accented voice, _anything-_

"Guten tag, Herr Handsome Devil!"

 _Who said that?!_

Apollo jumps, whipping around to face the direction the comment came from. It's a familiar voice, one he's on the verge of recognizing-

Of course.

Klavier looks amused, leaning against his opened window with a cocky grin. "You know, it's dangerous for someone as _gorgeous_ as you to be walking around alone, especially outside at a time like this. May I offer a ride?"

Apollo rolls his eyes. There are many things he never thought he'd see, and Klavier's impersonation of a sleazy pickup artist is pretty high on the list.

Apollo will just ignore that question. Klavier had _better_ give Apollo a ride, at this rate.

Apollo walks around the car without a word and lifts the trunk, hoisting the suitcases in and shoving them well into the back of the car.

"You're _impossible_." Apollo finally grunts when he sidles into the car, slamming the passenger door behind him. "Also, your suitcase is horrible. I hate it."

"And yet, here you are, still coming along." Klavier smirks easily, laughing at Apollo's noise of protest. He slams his foot down on the pedal, driving them off with a whirr from the engine. They speed into the street, weaving through lanes.

It doesn't take long for Apollo to notice a practiced ease to Klavier's driving. He definitely knows these streets well, that's for sure.

Klavier's got everything completely under control.

Apollo is comforted by the thought. He leans on the car door, resting against it and letting his eyelids droop. He's decided to let Klavier take over for a bit, and the thought is... strangely calming. Besides, Apollo's too tired to be wholly verbal, instead staring out of the passenger seat window.

Munich. It's nice, from what Apollo's seeing. It's all bright lights and smooth roads, with too many buildings zooming past to look at every individual one. It may be a blur at this point, but it's a pretty blur, full of blending colors and soft lights.

"Beautiful city, nein?" Klavier finally asks, breaking the silence with some small talk. His voice is respectfully quiet, a good match to the small smile curving his lips.

Apollo nods slowly, trying not to hit his head against the window. "You grew up here, right?"

"Ja." Now Klavier almost looks wistful. The tension leaves his face, and it almost seems like he's melting as he stares out into the city. "My parents' home is in the suburbs, though."

"Parents?" Apollo asks. He's genuinely surprised. That's the first Klavier's ever mentioned his parents.

He racks his memory. Actually, that's the first he's heard _either_ Gavin talk about their parents. They were mentioned in Kristoph's file, sure, but that was a throwaway line, and one Apollo doesn't remember well.

Apollo draws away from the window, shifting closer to Klavier. "They're… living here?"

"Nein, nein." Klavier shakes his head. "Ach, my apologies for the confusion. Kristoph and I just _call_ the house our parents'. Our parents are dead."

"O-oh." Apollo instantly stares down at the floor, a greyish carpet just under his seat. "Sorry. Didn't mean to-"

"It is fine." Klavier says quickly. "They've been dead a long time. I never actually knew them."

"Me neither." Apollo sighs, staring downwards. It's quiet for a moment, until he realizes his mistake.

Apollo starts, sitting back up. "I mean-! Not that I never knew _your_ parents, of course I didn't, but I! I didn't know my parents."

Klavier is dead silent, and all Apollo can hear is the quiet whirr of the engine.

Apollo's voice becomes small. "They died when I was really young. I mean... that's all I was told, at least."

"I'm sorry." Klavier says, and Apollo was expecting it. He's heard it once, a hundred times, a thousand. That's what everyone says to him, the orphan. _I'm sorry._

But… it's different, coming from Klavier. It's different, coming from someone who knows what it's like. Apollo hadn't been expecting this; actually, he never thought Klavier would… relate on such a personal level. That someone would understand it. But it feels _so nice_ to have someone like this, to find solace and see himself in someone so unquestionably wonderful. It's a feeling he can't choke down, this sudden gratefulness rushing through him.

Klavier decides to clarify something, before Apollo inevitably asks.

"I was raised by Kristoph, actually." He nearly mumbles to himself.

Apollo whips around, gaping at Klavier in disbelief. _What?!_

He- he- _Kristoph?!_ What the hell?!

"You _what?!_ " Apollo chokes. Please let this be a prank, please-

If it is, Klavier finds it as unfunny as Apollo does. Klavier's face has become a carefully controlled mask now, eyes fixed forwards and expression blank.

"Kristoph brought me up." Klavier says just as stonily, leaving a pause there before he breaks down. Before he sighs in defeat.

"I…" Klavier swallows visibly, reaching for the words. Searching for something to say. Anything. "He was my family, Apollo. He was both a parent and a brother."

Apollo can't look away from Klavier, can't stop studying his face this intently. "Is that why…?"

"Why what?" Klavier asks. He only looks more lost now.

"Why you're doing all…" Apollo gestures around, moving his hand from the car to the window. " _this_."

Klavier's expression screws up in thought, and the conversation pauses.

"Partly." Klavier finally says, voice dropped to a whisper. "It is my duty in many ways, nein? As a brother, a protégé, even the prosecutor on his case."

His hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. The volume of his voice doesn't rise, but the tone becomes harder. "I must find the truth. No matter what it takes. The truth is _everything,_ Apollo."

The words send chills down Apollo's spine, and it takes a second to realize why. They sound dead serious, and vaguely like…

 _No._ They aren't familiar. They can't be. Apollo's just thinking that because Kristoph was mentioned recently, Klavier can't be- no. That's impossible.

"Y-yeah," Apollo stutters, trying to phrase this next part carefully. He's not about to accuse Klavier of acting like Kristoph, it's late, he's jumping to conclusions but… something seems a bit off.

"I'm here to help." Apollo says slowly, surely. "Just… remember that, alright?"

Klavier surprises him by chuckling. "How could I forget you, Apollo?"

It sounds like teasing. Apollo leans back into his seat, crossing his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Klavier's smiling again, completely returned to normal. Like a switch was flipped. "Only that I don't know many defense attorneys who invite themselves to spur-of-the-moment investigations in Germany."

Apollo blushes, and he doesn't know why. He was caught off guard. "You- you said it was ok!"

"Better than ok, mein Apollo." Klavier admits, and his voice is quiet again. "I am… glad you've come with me. It means a lot."

"No problem," Apollo assures Klavier, and he means it.

There's nothing Apollo would rather be doing.

* * *

 **Ok, I feel like I owe you guys an explanation for the horrendous delay. I'm really really sorry- as I said, my summer is just. Insane. But, if it's any consolation, I was spending most of my free time with an AU that a good friend and I are creating. I may write and publish it someday, so… there's something? But that was no excuse to neglect my other stories, so I apologize. I'll try to be more timely for you guys.**


	7. Author's Note

**Uh. Hey guys. Been awhile, hasn't it?**

 **I know it's been...months, really, since I've posted anything, and I am deeply sorry for that. There were a lot of irl things going on, and I know I haven't said much about that, but. Well. To be brief, I had been going through some really bad social turbulence that had all but declined to cyber-bullying, and a lot of schoolwork. Also, I had been under some stress, and my eating disorder had a brief comeback, and I'd been having really terrible writer's block on top of everything else. It was a hell of a lot at once, and I just didn't have the motivation to do anything.**

 **But. I'm getting help now and all that jazz, and I think I'm on the path to being back to my usual by now. I mean, I sure hope so, and I feel much better nowadays (not to jinx anything). Believe me, there is _nothing_ I'd like more than to continue my fanfiction. I promised myself I'd never do one of these AN chapters, but I'd like you all to know that I haven't abandoned my fanfiction. It was just... very hard to do, for awhile. **

**So in that vein, I'd like to thank everyone for being patient and understanding. I promise I won't be wallowing in self-pity forever, and I'll be sure to do some oneshots and new chapters when I can. I still love this series and its characters, and well, nothing is going to change that. I will try my best to be back soon.**

 **And... that's about it. I'm alive, I have every intention of returning, and I'll delete this thing whenever I come up with an actual chapter. I might write some other story, if only to try and shake my awful writer's block. Now that I'm feeling a bit better, I've been working on something like a story?** **It's in a different format (the online ace attorney case maker, for those of you that are familiar with it), so I could probably adapt it easily (or just link it... but let's be honest, I'm horrible with the casemaker tool). It has some timeframe issues, considering the whole story, and it's a bit different than my usual thing, but it's similar enough I think. Considering how much fun I had with it, I may try to adapt it for my comeback. We'll see.**

 **Stay awesome, readers!**

 **-The Lesbian Gavinners**


	8. (Spongebob Voice) One Year Later

wow. this is awkward.

so, as you guys most likely know, it's been about a year since I last posted anything on this account. I'd been thinking about doing this for a bit, and only now have I gotten the opportunity to do it.

first off, I'd like to give a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed in response to that last chapter. your concern is really, really touching, and I just can't thank you enough. I'm really lucky to have generated such a positive interest in my lil fics. (insert heart emojis here because the document editor takes it out)

as for me, for anyone who cares, I've still been having some issues unfortunately. got diagnosed with depression quite recently. it's pretty rip. and I have moved from the ace attorney fandom somewhat. I still adore the franchise, but I haven't played the sixth game, or been active at all in the fandom recently. so this brings me to a question:

it seems like some people are still kinda interested in my stories that are up. I've still been getting a few odd reviews and follows and whatnot even with being MIA for a year. and I have a couple of unfinished stories on my computer.

so what would be the interest levels for posting some of the stuff I have, and what do people wanna see?

I've got some unfinished multi-chapter works (with a few chapters each and plot summaries, though I will warn you, a lot of them are extremely weird), some finished oneshots, and another chapter for this fic as well as a summary of what would have happened. this isn't to say that I will never finish it, I still may, but for the time being it doesn't seem likely that it will be continued very soon. so if anyone's got a strong opinion on this, hit me up with a review or PM. I'll probably be posting the oneshots regardless, but I welcome any and all feedback when it comes to this. I'll also set up a poll on my profile.

thank you all for reading this. I appreciate your support.

-the lesbian gavinners


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